


The Disease and the Cure

by vogue91



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Ficlet Collection, Introspection, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: I drink so that I won’t think about Remus, laying in our dormitory, so that I won’t imagine that wrinkle that I’m sure is decorating his too young forehead.I drink, because he hates me when I do.And a little, in the end, I hate myself too.





	The Disease and the Cure

_ Drink to Forget _

__

Concentric circles.

One, two, three, four.

Until they become too many to count them.

I’ve always found the Great Lake of great comfort in these moments.

The surface of the water, at night, twists my reflection, showing the chaos reigning inside of me.

I stare at the flask in my hand and I drink.

I drink, drink, drink.

I drink so that I won’t think about Remus, laying in our dormitory, so that I won’t imagine that wrinkle that I’m sure is decorating his too young forehead.

I drink, because he hates me when I do.

And a little, in the end, I hate myself too.

Then all of a sudden the water of the lake stops, motionless. I lean in a little bit more, as if I wanted to fall, to let myself be surrounded by its cold and wet embrace.

And I see what I truly am, what I try to hide even to myself.

I’m a relict, and I know he thinks that as well.

Inside me and between us, confusion is in command, it has fun playing with our feelings, with this unease of mine that finds no answer.

Remus keeps looking for a way to make me feel better.

And I... I drink, hoping that the alcohol burning in my veins will finally destroy me.

 

_ Drink to Stop Thinking  _

__

He smiles. It’s one of his bloody bitter smiles, but I try to let it be enough, because I know that these days I can’t get nothing more than this from him.

He looks around, barely restraining himself from disapproving my constant untidiness.

“I see you’ve settled in.” he comments, with an irony that doesn’t belong to him.

I smile back to him, trying to make him feel comfortable.

He’s antsy, I see it. I feel it.

Pretending nonchalance, I go toward the kitchen, getting back with a bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky.

“We should celebrate.” I say, feigning a cheerfulness that I don’t truly have.

He keeps looking at me, in his eyes an infinite sadness.

“How long can we go on like this?” he asks, low, as if he didn’t truly want an answer.

I get gloomy, losing the will to pretend. I close my eyes slowly and I sigh.

“You’re the one who insists with hiding. You hide your bloody monster and you hide us, don’t you?” I accuse him, bitterly. He bit his lips, intolerant.

“I’d like to see the sunlight as well, Sirius.” he murmurs. I snort, sarcastic.

“I don’t know why, but it sounds a lot like rubbish.” he doesn’t answer, aware that I’m tired of his excuses. He collapse on the couch, while I open the bottle and start drinking.

I drink, and I feel just the mess, as if he was a part of it. All of a sudden, his words fade, along with his face.

We stay quiet. A silence that weighs, that hurts.

But it would never hurt like the knowledge that we want different things.

He wants to think and reason, I want to fog my mind.

And I drink, to crush the image of the precocious wrinkles on his face.

 

_ Drink to be Confused  _

__

It’s delirious. Pure and simple anarchy.

Tens of people laughing, dancing, having fun.

James and Lily are at the centre of the room, ignorant of what happens around them.

I’d love to join them. Remembering what a true smile is, learning what bliss means, the uncorrupted kind, the stainless one.

Then I see him.

Sitting in a corner, with an half smile giving away its own insincerity.

In one hand an old lighter, which he turns on and off, in a mechanical gesture I’ve seen him making too many times.

In the other, a chalice of elf-made wine, almost empty.

I get closer to him, without saying a word. When I’m right next to him, he’s the first to talk, his tone slurred, with the looks who doesn’t really know where he is.

“I’m happy for them.” he comments, as to justify his attitude. I sigh, bite my lip and close my eyes briefly.

“Then why?” I murmur, with that frustration that only he can give me.

“This is all we’ll never be.” he replies, harsh, with a sudden lucidity.

He stands up with little balance, empties his glass in a sip and goes to the closest table to refill.

I watch him, without trying to stop him.

I know that inside of him nothing’s at its right place, and that this is his way to react.

I just wonder if I wasn’t the one to do this to him.

 

_ Drink to be Hurt _

__

How many years have gone by, Remus?

Thirteen? Fourteen?

And you’re always there, a few more grey hair and the same expression.

Around us there’s an unnatural order, which doesn’t belong to me.

But I can’t see it, I can’t see anything of this.

Just your eyes, disappointed, with just one question in them.

Yes, I’m drunk. I’m drunk of this half-life, drunk of boredom, drunk of this feeling of suffocation.

Drunk of Firewhisky, of all the alcohol I managed to find in this bloody house, in this bloody order, which is not mine.

And which isn’t yours either, Remus.

I play distractedly with a lighter, like a moth attracted to that flame, insignificant and full of charm.

It’s that fire that has extinguished long ago inside me, extinguished by the cold of Azkaban, suffocated by the walls of this house, freezing like never before.

I’ve missed your warmth, you know that. As I know I don’t deserve it anymore, I’m not even worthy of looking you in the eyes for what I’m doing to myself.

There has been a time where you and I used to hide, and yet we were always together. Now we’re lightyears apart, and I hide even from myself, so that I don’t have to look in the mirror, that I don’t have to catch on my face the signs of a gradual but constant ruin.

And now that I mirror in your eyes, I see all I’ve escaped from.

You’re brutal, Remus, and you don’t even know it.

I consume myself, and you can do nothing but stay there and watch.

Because you’ll always be the one to pay for my mistakes.

 

_ Drink to be the Same _

__

You’d be happy now.

Now that you’ve escaped the imprisonment of Grimmauld Place, now that you’d be watching me, with your devilish smile, laughing of my weakness, so horribly human.

You’ve found your freedom, Sirius. The one you’ve always wanted, and that I have never been able to give to you. I’ve always bounded you to my choices, to my shy behaviour, to all that love that I’ve never been able to express.

And now, when that very same love should lay underground, I feel it running in my veins, alive like never before.

Now that you’re not her, now that I can’t see your eyes, to read inside them like one of my loved and useless books.

I’ve got in my hands your flask. I look at it, mindful of all the issues it’s witness of, created mine, resolved yours.

I open it, slowly, and I drink.

I’d like to say I’m disgusted by what I’m doing, that it’s a childish gesture, that it won’t loose the knots that chain my soul tight to your memory but, I don’t know why, it sounds a lot like rubbish.

I drink, and I like what I feel.

I like the confusion, I like the weight of my eyelids, closing my eyes and seeing nothing but your face.

You were right, Sirius. And I’ve realized it only now.

Enjoy your freedom, for I’m still in chains.

Not for long.


End file.
